The Great Hydration

“We do not know. Some say it evaporated into space, others that it sank into the sand. In past times our engineers dug deep wells. But no water was ever found.”

“The principle was right. The water went into the ground. But it went a long way down, much further than you could ever reach by digging. Now, our arts are superior to yours. We can bring the water back.”

“You still do not say how.”

“We have ways of forcing the water back up to the surface. It will form oceans once more. There will be rain.”

“What if it drains away again?”

“We can stop that happening.”

“How do you force the water back up?”

“That is difficult to explain. Essentially, we reverse the process that caused it to drain away. If you wish, you can talk to our engineers about it.”

The Tlixix who had been speaking broke off and splashed into the pool. All six of the beasts began surging about in the water as if in great excitement. This must be absolutely incredible to them, Krabbe thought. They scarcely know what to make of it.

At length the sloshing water subsided. The Tlixix leader reared over them again.

“How do we know you are what you say? How do we know you are not a mutated species of our own world who have found a supply of water and learned to live on it? You will take one of us to this ship which you say hangs in space.”

“Agreed.”

The Tlixix turned his four milky eyes on the Earthmen, studying them. Power exuded from the creature. Power and a ruthless determination. “There is equipment with which to communicate with your ship?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“All your property has been brought here. You will arrange for our representative to see the ship in space. Meantime, you remain here as our guests.”

The Tlixix spoke with a finality which caused Krabbe to glance at the crustacean guards behind him.

Turning off his translator, Bouche spoke aside to him. “They don’t trust us yet. They’re measuring us by their own cloth. They probably suspect we aim to control them the same way they control the dehydrate species. But don’t worry. We’re offering them paradise. They’re not going to be able to refuse.”

He turned the translator back on as the master of Tenacity spoke again.

“And if you restore our world to us, what do you want in return?”

Krabbe and Bouche both sighed.

The negotiating was about to begin.

Planets a gogetter company could realistically expect to do business with were generally a patchwork of authorities—nations, empires or the like—and that made matters complicated. Sometimes a gogetter’s intervention would spark off a destructive war, rendering any contract drawn up unenforceable.

To come upon a planet under one set of rules was a pretty good piece of luck. It meant the contract could be global.

However it was dressed up, what a gogetter wanted was to exchange beads for Manhattan. In return for some service or good-looking piece of technology, he would claim from the owner of a territory all interstellar trading rights, sewn together so as to hold up in a human court of law. If Krabbe and Bouche had their way, the lobsters’ ownership of their world would ultimately consist of little more than their tenancy of it.

All off-world commerce, all mining, manufacturing and trading not of a purely domestic character would belong solely to the firm of Krabbe & Bouche, Partners. Exclusive rights in the uninhabited bodies of the local planetary system would also be thrown in.

Exclusivity was in fact what gave the contract its value as an asset. The gogetter would rarely take up the options himself. But when, sooner or later, one of the rapacious large corporations decided to make use of the find it would have to license the right to do so. Meantime, registering the contract increased Krabbe & Bouche’s credit.

Bouche chuckled. “I wonder what these lobsters would think if they found out our licence to operate has been revoked,” he said, translator off.

It probably would be hard to explain to them that actually it didn’t make any difference. The contract drawn up and registered would still be valid.

That was one of many useful lacunae in the law.

CHAPTER NINE

“O’Rourke calling Castaneda.”

Resting in the cool of the tent, Roncie answered, “Northrop here. Castaneda is at the site.”

O’Rourke’s voice became distinctly frosty as he recognised the would-be ship-jumper. “Tell Castaneda the partners are in a position to strike a deal. Is the surveying complete?”

“Just about.”

Three teams had been hopping about the planet for the past few days, carrying out seismic tests. Eight catastrophe fracture zones had been mapped in detail. If they got the go-ahead, the teams could start drilling.